The Search for Sam Winchester
by TheDarkNightsRun
Summary: Sam has disappeared and Dean is getting frustrated. Castiel just wants to live happily with Dean on a private island. The search was going nowhere until an angel pops up and tells the couple he knows someone who can help, and his name is Sherlock Holmes. Rated T for language... maybe some fluff.
1. Chapter 1

"Goddamnit Cas! Where the hell is Sam?" Dean yelled from the driver's seat of the Impala. Castiel didn't hear him though; he was perched on the roof of the classic, black, car. They had been searching for him for a whole month now and things were getting frustrating. The two hunters were on a case that seemed to be a cursed object, but it turned out be something else, something big. Sam said he would be right back and that he would be careful inside the abandoned mansion. All of a sudden, there was a bright light, Sam screaming, then nothing.

"He's not in Heaven and Meg said he's not in Hell. There is no sign of him anywhere," Cas said after he suddenly appeared in the passenger seat next to his sexy gay lover. He had been scanning the Angel Radio for a while to see if Sam was mentioned anywhere, he had even resorted to asking if anyone would help with the search.

"Well there better be something soon, I am so tired all the this shit that's happening to the world," Dean said with a tone that would scare even Abaddon. Just as he was finishing his sentence, an angel appeared in the back seat of the Impala.

"Eremial," Cas said with a nod, "I see you got my message."

"Hello Castiel, and yes, I did. Dean, you look well," Eremial said.

"Cut the crap, Eremial, did you find anything?" Dean turned around to scrutinize his new passenger.

"I found someone, his name is Sherlock Holmes. He lives in London, 221B Baker Street," the angel said.

"Sherlock Holmes, the murder detective?" Dean looked confused; Sherlock Holmes only looked into murder mysteries, not disappearances. He would've asked anyone else besides that stuck up prat who ruined a demon case on purpose. It was about two years ago, a demon had ripped an entire family apart, literally. Sherlock thought it was another Jack the Ripper kind of thing, bodies found in strange places with arms, legs, even heads, missing. Sam and Dean arrived at the scene of the crime to see Mr. Sherlock Holmes messing with the evidence. They were introduced and began to work with each other on the case. This ended up with a dead policeman, a hunter, and a virgin with Sherlock blaming the two hunters on it all, they eventually found the demon and dealt with it.

"Yes, Naiomi is allowing you two to go and get help from him," Eremial claimed before he said his goodbyes along with a good luck and flew away.

"What do you think Cas? Should we take a plain or do you want to fly?" Dean had cringed a bit at the thought of taking a plain.

"I'll take you there, then I will have to leave. I have business elsewhere," Castiel said, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder. There was a swoop and they were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you to my followers. Just to clear some things up, this is supposed to be after season 5, only Sam has his soul and none of stuff with Micheal happened. It is also after season 1 of Sherlock, and Sherlock hadn't met John when he worked the case with Sam and Dean. That's all I wanted to say, again thank you and please review, enjoy:**

"_Dean, Dean wake up." _

_Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel above him. He looked beautiful in the firelight coming from the house Sam had just gone into._

"_Where's Sam?" he asked, trying to remember why he felt like a truck just ran over him._

"_He just went into the house, remember?" Castiel had sorrow mixed with confusion evident on his face. Dean, however did not remember. He was laying in the middle of a street with cuts and bruises covering his body. His ears were ringing, most likely from an explosion of some kind. "Dean, come on. Get up, the police will be here soon."_

"_What about Sam?" Dean asked as Castiel helped him off the ground, making their way through the rubble to the Impala._

"_I'm sorry Dean," was all Cas said._

"_What do you mean?" police sirens made themselves known from a distance away._

"_Come on Dean!" frustration at Deans behavior caused Castiel to lash and Dean to recoil. Angels rarely raised their voices, let alone his beloved Cas. _

_Castiel decided to drive since Dean was going into shock and had just lost his brother. This was going to be a long drive._

Having an angel fly you across the Atlantic ocean was never fun. Jet lag wasn't as bad but the nausea and disorientation were excruciating. Dean opened his eyes to see and apartment door with a big brass 221B on it.

Castiel took Dean's hand and looked at him, asking with his eyes if he should knock. Dean nodded and brought his hand up, knocking on the door three times, and receiving no answer. This time Cas decided to knock and on the second one the door opened to reveal a stout man with blond hair and most likely in his thirties.

Behind him was a decently sized living area, papers were scattered about and piled up high on a small desk by the wall. On one wall there was a fireplace with a furniture set near it, a kettle and two cups for tea sitting in the coffee table.

"Hello, who are you?" the stout man asked, looking confusedly up at the strange men.

"Hi, I'm Dean and this is Cas. We are looking for Sherlock," his American accent was evident compared to the blond man's accent.

"He's busy at the moment, would you like me to take a message? Do you have a case for us?" the man asked, turning to grab a pencil and paper.

"Yes, we have a missing person. Someone told us to come here," Castiel spoke up before Dean could answer with some curse or other extremity. The man nodded and ushered them into the apartment. He walked over to the desk and motioned for them to sit down.

Opening the laptop he began to click a few things before saying, "My names John by the way." Standing and walking to another room he told the couple he would be back and help themselves to some tea.

-Scene change-

John walked into the kitchen to find Sherlock staring intently at the microwave. It was most likely one of his crazy experiments but this is Sherlock, unpredictable Sherlock.

"We have some visitors, Sherlock," John said, going to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.

"Do we now?" Sherlock said without even looking up, whatever was in there must have been extremely interesting.

"They say their name are Dean and Castiel," Sherlock bolted upright and turned around. obviously John had struck a cord.

Without another word, Sherlock stopped the microwave and strode out of the kitchen with an uptight air. John smirked and pushed aside his confusion, curiosity driving him to look at what it was Sherlock had been so intent on. He opened the door to see a pearly white pair of human eyes staring back at him. Closing the door, John made a resolve to not let Sherlock use the microwave for any of his experiments, and followed his friend into the living room.

"Sherlock," the man named Dean was now standing and staring at Sherlock intently. The other man, Castiel, was gone.

"Dean, I see you are well. Where's your brother?" Sherlock, completely unfazed by the newcomers, stood by the desk.

"That's what I'm here to talk to you about. He was on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."


	3. Chapter 3

_Sherlock set the tattered remains of the most recent victim on the ground. This case proved itself to actually be entertaining for once. It didn't seem to be just a crazed serial killer however, it seemed to be more than that. A police officer walked up to him, scowling slightly at the evidence._

_"Detective Holmes," Sherlock checked the man's badge, Officer Wayward. Two men stood behind the American, one unnaturally tall and the other slightly shorter. Gunpowder lined their fingernails and they had the smallest, almost unnoticeable, scars on their cheeks. They had similar jaw shapes and body structure, maybe they were brothers. Their suits here obviously rarely worn and quite cheap. Officer Wayward introduced them as FBI Agents Ackles and Padalecki. They were apparently assigned the same case as Sherlock._

_"Mr. Holmes, nice name, I think we've got it from here thanks," Agent Ackles gave Sherlock a dazzling smile, failing at hiding his uncomfortableness at Sherlocks scrutinizing gaze._

_"You 'have it from here?' I don't think so. Three families and a jogger ripped to shreds with no trace of the killer. 'Handling it' is not a very good excuse for your government to write it off as a terrorist attack and nuke the whole city. I think you can use all the help you can get to solve this case, so I would rather stay and help thank you very much," Agent Ackles' grin slowly slipped off as Sherlock spoke, Agent Padalecki was trying hard not to laugh._

_Officer Wayward looked appalled and quickly made his way back to his cruiser. He didn't want to get in trouble with this British lunatic._

_"Alright Holmes, can I call you Sherlock?" receiving a nod Agent Padalecki went on, "We both want to see this case solved, so why don't we discuss this with our boss and work this out?" He handed Sherlock a card with a number on it. Sherlock completely ignored it and made a decision he would never make on a usual case._

_"Or we could just work on this together. Americans are supposed to work well with others right?" Sherlock was never one for sarcasm but this was one of those moments he actually attempted it. Agent Ackles and his partner shared a look, one that could hold a whole conversation. The two nodded, Sherlock abliged and the deal was set._

Sherlocks eyes widened slightly in surprise. _He was on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days. John didn't understand that reference or how Sherlock knew this man. They must've met before John moved in with Sherlock._

"Why would you need to come to me fore help? He's your brother," Sherlock began to pace the room, something he only did when he was thinking. The violin wasn't too far away.

"I've been looking for him for a month, I have no one else to turn to," Dean suddenly sounded... Pleading? Why would a man of his stature plead? He must be really attached to this Sam.

"I guess I can help, but you have to let me make all the calls, I will be in charge you understand," now John was really confused. Sherlock very rarely did anything like this, especially taking a case without more details.

"Thank you," Dean relaxed slightly, he looked tired and worn out.

"Where did you last see him?" Sherlock gestured for him to sit, making his way to his favourite seat.

"We were on a case, he went into a house. There was a light, Sam screaming, and an explosion. I woke up in the street and the house was on fire."

John sat down as well, preparing himself for Sherlock to bombard Dean with questions.

"What was the case you where working on?" Sherlock had his hands in front of his mouth, fingertips touching, his usual thinking pose.

"People were found dead, all within the same area of a city in Virginia. They had similar deaths, throats cut and their spleen missing, always the spleen. We thought it was a cursed object, so we went to the house we thought would hold the next attack. We waited for an hour outside the house till Sam said he was going to go in, of course I wanted to go with him... He said no and went in... That's when he disappeared," Dean got quiet after that, the story seemed to bring a lot out of him.

John and Sherlock stayed silent, thinking about the mans tale. It was a strange one, but it seemed to make sense to Sherlock.

"What do you think happened?" Dean asked in a small, sad voice.

"I don't know, but I know we can find him," Sherlock stood up, determined now.

Dean stood up as well, brightening at Sherlocks new found enthusiasm, "How will we do that? We don't even have a lead on who took him."

"We don't but we have Johns tea and your angel to help. Speaking of which, where is he?"

As if on cue, Castiel popped up next to Dean. His face was swollen and bloody, his clothes where ripped and stained in more blood. His hair was matted down in a mixture of blood, mud, and little red chunks of... Entrails?

****"Dean..." Was all he could manage before collapsing on the ground in a red, broken heap.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter might be kind of slow, I am having trouble with getting to the important parts in the story... Updates might be slow. This mights be a SuperWhoLock for a chapter or two but it's mostly SuperLockThe last chapter wasn't proofread, and I had trouble with Sherlocks character. He's a strange, adorable, man, he is.**

**It greatly displeases me that I own none of the characters or the shows, just the storyline.**

_Castiel watched as a couple pushing a stroller jogged by. The anxiety he was feeling was new to him, angels never felt emotions such as anxiety._

_"Evening Flaps," Crowely patted Castiels shoulder before making himself comfortable on the park bench._

_"Crowely," Castiel gave him a nod. "Have you thought about the deal?"_

_"I have, and I came to a conclusion," Cas' stomach fell, a _conclusion _didn't sound like a welcomed answer from the King of Hell. "Yes."_

_Yes, he will do it. Castiel closed his eyes, trying to stop yet another human emotion from becoming evident. Dean would love to have Sam back, he might even start singing off key to Bon Jovi again. Yes, Castiel would miss Dean, and the feeling would be returned, but getting a family member back is better then losing _

_Castiel gave a slight nod and stood, Crowely doing the same. Crowely's hand came up to Castiels shoulder and they disappeared, straight down to the pits of hell. _

_The next couple of hours where a blur to Castiel, at least it seemed like hours. Time passes slower in hell, minutes can pass up top and it would be days down there.π_

_Crowely had left Cas with some demons to go and find Sams soul, where ever it was. The demons where instructed to give the angel the 'Whole Enchilada.'_

_Castiel past out after his spleen was ripped out and shoved so hard up his diaphragm, the muscle dome broke. He was tortured like this, until he woke up in the detectives apartment and collapsed._

Dean Winchester, was not a sentimental man. Sure he went to Hell and back, and watched his brother die multiple times over, but when his gaurdian angel landed in Sherlocks apartment, shit got real.

"Cas!" Dean ran to Castiels crumpled, crimson, form. His trenchcoat was in shreds and stained with blood.

"Cas!" Dean yelled again, this time taking Castiels hand. He only showed his worry and care for a loved ond when they were in danger, and Castiel looked on the verge of death.

"Don't worry, I'm a doctor," John was at Deans side in a flash, his years of military training made it easy for him to recover from shock in an instant.

While John tended to Castiel, Sherlock took Dean to the kitchen. He handed him one of Johns beers and went back to out to assist John.

A few hours later, Castiel was lying on the sofa. Dean had left the apartment building to go on a walk and had found his much loved Impala waiting next to the curb. To clear his head,and get rid of the ever constant sting behind his eyes, Dean decided to go for a drive. Of course, the side the British drove on and the side he was used to made the drive quite difficult. After recieving numerouse honks and angry curses, the Winchester eventually gave up, parked the car, and began to walk through a park.

The air was brisk and foggy, typical in London at this time of year. People where out and about, talking a laughing whilst doing their own thing. Dean was feeling worry, lose, and anger all at the same time. _Why was his Sammy gone? What was Cas doing when he was beaten? _He racked his brain for an answer to the questions, but came up with nothing.

Dean continued walking. A young woman and a tall man stepped out of a blue police box as he strode past. The two began to walk behind him, holding hands and speaking quietly to each other.

"Wellll, it's complicated, I got a message that said some very important men where in trouble and I needed to make sure nothing messes up their fixed point in time," the man with the trench coat lifted his chin and looked at the young woman tenderly.

"So, we have nothing to do with this? We are just here to watch over things?" This came from the blond.

"Exactly, I still don't know where this message came from but... I guess we'll find out later won't we?" The man pulled out a small leather bound wallet type thing and looked at it as he spoke.

"But Doctor, why do we have to look after them? What are they supposed to do that's so important?" The blond saying 'supposed' didn't sound right. It implied something hasn't happened yet, but already happened for those two.

Dean knew he shouldn't be listening, but what the two where saying was so strange. Who where these _men_? What exactly was going to happen?

"Rose, a man went missing a few months ago. The men we are meant to look after are looking for him. Heaven and Hell exist and they are at war, and the men got in the middle of it, we have to help find the man and get them out of the war," the person called the Doctor used short sentences, trying to give the woman, Rose, all the details quickly.

"Who are we going to help, and who are they looking for, Doctor?" Rose was intrigued by the new information shared with her.

"Detectives," the Doctor paused for a second, "and the Winchesters, Rose, Sam and Dean Winchester."


End file.
